


Navigating a War

by Improbablyprocrastinating



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Improbablyprocrastinating/pseuds/Improbablyprocrastinating
Summary: If Obi-wan had somehow managed to find one of the few Jedi raised kids that had a personality, then he was definitely on board with his Master getting a new Padawan. Obi-wan was far too amused watching him struggle his way through training Ahsoka, and Anakin was more than happy to help Cal cause the Jedi Master some much needed chaos.In other words, Cal Kestis loses his Master five months into the Clone Wars and Obi-wan just so happens to know what it’s like to go through that himself. Cal is learning to navigate his life as war rages around him but Obi-wan has decided to help as he goes. Somewhere along the way, the Jedi Master gets the foolish idea to train another Padawan, because training the first one wasn't hard at all...
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Cal Kestis
Comments: 30
Kudos: 236





	1. There is no death, there is the force

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been on and off writing this for some time now and as a result I have a good idea of where it’s going and hopefully have plans to continue with new fics continuing Cal's journey in the future.
> 
> A few quick but important notes. Even though Jaro Tapal is in this chapter, he obviously isn’t for long as you can tell from the description. I’ve never written anything where a character dies and so I wasn’t entirely sure whether I should label this fic as a major character death because he’s not really a huge character in Star Wars as a whole and he’s also not a major character in this. In my opinion his death doesn't compare to perhaps Obi-wan or Anakin's so I decided to just put a warning here instead.
> 
> Another heads up, Cal is older in this fic, around 14/15, and was made a Padawan a few years before the war at around 12/13. I’m not entirely sure why, it just felt right to have him slightly older. I just couldn’t picture a twelve-year-old taking on droids when they’ve had no training. For some reason apparently adding on 2 years changes that for me.
> 
> This chapter ended up being a lot longer than expected but the others I’ve finished so far are only a little shorter. This will probably be 7 or 8 chapters long, I have the rough idea planned out but not the details, and there are definitely things I want to include in the future past this fic. I'm also not sure how to go about tagging this, so I'm going to put any warnings at the beginning of each chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own no recognizable places, characters etc… The rights each belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 1 – There is no death

Cal had quickly come to the conclusion that Bracca was a thoroughly miserable planet. He and his master had been planet side for just under two weeks now but this was a decision he had come to within a matter of days, along with several clone troopers he was friendly with. They had come up with a list of planets that they would rather not visit again, each for varying reasons which ranged from the expected usual problems to the amusingly absurd. Natter was still staying stubbornly tight lipped about why the 13th Battalion could never return to Naboo despite the welcoming environment and people. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of the usually talkative clone who could hold an informed and interesting conversation on just about any topic handed to him. It was a story that Cal and several other members of the 13th were determined to figure out by any means possible.

Until such a time where they knew Natter's reasons, it was up for debate whether Naboo was on the list. Bracca on the other hand... Well, Cal could say with complete certainty that no living being, whether clone, Jedi or perhaps even Sith, could visit the planet and leave with a pleasant impression. He doubted that even the droids who were currently hunting them through the dark liked it. And they were programmed to have no feelings on such matters. Bracca was in the top five... No. The top three worst planets he had ever visited and for a number of reasons.

Firstly, there appeared to be only two forms of weather. Rain. Or dark clouds that signalled the imminent arrival of rain.

It was also ridiculously cold. A result of the near constant storms he imagined. But it wasn't just cold in terms of the temperature but within the force too. There was little life on the planet, particularly where they were stationed. There were a number of small civilisations but those who stayed on the planet did so to work at the salvaging centres set up due to the war. They had families elsewhere that they would return to after several months of labour.

Animals were few and far between. It was mostly insects that were only a nuisance. Plants were just as rare. There were the odd tufts of grass poking out between cracks in the rock but apart from that Cal had seen no trees, bushes or flowers. It was rather sad in a way, and the lack of life was reflected in a small dull presence in the force.

Then there was the rocky terrain which perhaps would have been alright on its own, but accompanied with the awful weather, the ground which should have felt stable under foot was instead a slippery obstacle course that was sure to leave at least a bruise if you were unable to gain your footing after losing your step on the wet ground. It had left many of the troops in the 13th battalion with bruises and sprains and was sure to continue doing so until they left.

He had even witnessed his Master falling unceremoniously onto his back last week. The look of pure relief on his Master’s face when the Jedi had eventually stood up, looked around and come to the belief that no one had seen the blunder would cause Cal endless laughter for weeks to come. Not that he would ever admit that if his Master ever found out he had seen. He really didn't fancy the idea of extra study or meditation time that would inevitably come with such an admission.

A smile made its way onto his lips at only the passing thought of what happened.

"Does something amuse you, Padawan?" Master Tapal spoke up, his voice sounding louder in the near silence of the tunnel.

Cal's head snapped up to look at his Master, biting back the laughter that wanted to erupt from his mouth. "No, Master," he eventually said when he felt he had schooled his features effectively.

The Lasat Jedi raised an eyebrow, disbelief written across his face. He clearly expected further explanation.

Cal racked his brain for an answer to the unasked question, glancing around the darkened tunnel and peering at the walls through the blue glow of his and his Master's lightsabers as if he would find it there. "I was just wandering what had made these tunnels, Master. It would be annoying to escape the B1's only to be eaten by a giant rat." It certainly wasn't the answer Jaro Tapal was looking for, but Cal suspected it would be enough to distract the Jedi.

The tactic seemed to work for the most part, because even though his master was clearly still suspicious, he did continue the conversation. "A giant rat?"

"Yep. Or some other burrowing creature, I guess. I don't think it would really make much difference though when we run into it."

The Lasat jedi huffed out a laugh, shaking his head in exasperation. "I suppose it wouldn't." The skittering sound of loose pebbles behind them caused the two to fall into silence again as they both strained their ears, listening out for the tell-tale echo of metal feet and robotic voices that would signal that the droids had closed the distance between them. When they heard nothing else, they both breathed small sighs of relief, however there was an unspoken agreement between them as they both picked up their pace.

After several more minutes of silence where only the hum of their lightsabers could be heard, Master Tapal eventually spoke again. "What is it that makes you think these tunnels were left by a creature of some kind?" Cal frowned, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and internally kicking himself for not seeing that question coming.

His master had always found it important to continue Cal's learning whilst on a mission, ensuring he kept up with his temple lessons and always trying to apply the content of those lessons to the situation they were in. The Jedi master had a strong belief that there was no better way to learn than through experience, constantly questioning Cal on his thoughts on the mission and encouraging that he ask questions. This was something that had only increased since the start of the Clone war nearly five months ago. They were now living outside of the temple more often than they were in it and as a result Cal spent less time in classes and more time spent fighting in a war. It helped improve his knowledge as a Jedi in the practical areas, yet in the theoretical side he was now at a disadvantage.

Raising his lightsaber closer to the wall, Cal studied the damage that had been done to the rock face. "Well the tunnels haven't been formed naturally. It's too symmetrical," Cal stated almost immediately. The tunnel they were currently in had remained the same height and width since they had entered. Even when the ground lowered or there was an incline, the top of the cave remained about the same distance away from his head. "The people that live here have the technology to salvage old ships, but none of it would be made to cut stone from the ground effectively. Plus, it wouldn't be easy to use the cutters in such confined spaces. The damage to the walls is too even for something that would be that hard to manoeuvre through the tunnels.

"Well done, Padawan," Master Tapal said, nodding in approval at the fifteen-year-old. "Have you noticed anything else?"

Cal looked at the walls again, taking note of the smaller holes that appeared occasionally. They were all roughly the same size as each other and he presumed they went on for miles as he could barely see more than a few centimetres past the entrance in the poor lighting. "Uh... the burrows in the walls look like they're just about big enough for a child to crawl through. If they were dug out by people then they would need to be a lot bigger for an adult to get through."

His master hummed in agreement, moving his own lightsaber closer to one such tunnel in order to get a closer look. "If we need to make a quick exit at least we know you have an escape route set out. You'd just about be able to crawl through there yourself."

"I'm fifteen, master," he muttered, scowling at the implication that he was still a small child.

"Yes, you are," the Jedi master agreed, turning away from the wall and continuing their stumbling trek through one of the many cave systems that littered the planet. "Did you notice anything different about these tunnels compared to the ones we entered through?"  
Trying to remember what the tunnels had originally looked like after hours of walking alongside ones that hadn't changed was a lot harder than he had first thought. Especially when they had spent the first ten minutes being forced back, on the defensive by the Separatist droids that had overwhelmed their forces and separated the two jedi from their allies. Then they had been forced into an all-out sprint when even more droids had joined the original lot. There had been too many for them to take on by themselves, especially as Cal was still a padawan, and in the end they had had to retreat, Tapal trusting that the 13th battalion commander would be able to handle things from the other end of the fight. They had spent the first hour keeping up a fast pace in order to put as much distance between themselves and the droids that were following them. He hadn’t had much of a chance to take note of the cave walls.

They hadn't known what was left of clone troopers who had been fighting beside them until clone Commander Coal managed to get in contact with them through Tapal's comm unit. Coal had managed to organize the men into a defensive formation and they were able to hold out until reinforcements had arrived. Despite being caught by surprise, they hadn't suffered significant loses which had been a relief. It also meant Commander Coal had been able to quickly organize a bigger retrieval party who had since followed the droids following them.

Air support had been called in to scan the surrounding terrain, getting a rough idea of the layout of the cave system they were in. From what the scans could pick up, the caves and tunnels were a maze of different routes that circled back on each other constantly. There was only one exist which happened to be the way they had entered in the first place, and there was a large force of droids somewhere between them and it. The plan was for them to circle around and join up with the retrieval party by using the scans they had of the tunnels and tracking their location through the comm on Master Tapal's gauntlet. It was slow going but they appeared to be making progress.

Unfortunately, none of that helped him answer his master's question, and in the end, he had to admit defeat.

His master put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. "With everything that was happening I wouldn't have expected you to notice. The walls had metal support beams near the entrance, most likely put there when someone explored these caves. However, if they had made these tunnels themselves, it’s likely we would still be seeing those support beams now."

"That makes sense," Cal agreed, nodding in understanding before coming to a realization. "So, you also think something else made the tunnels." His brain was already coming up with all sorts of crazy animals that were big enough and strong enough to make holes in the ground this big.

"I do."

With that confirmation, he couldn’t help but thing about how dangerous those animals would be too, and with the droids hot on their tails, it wouldn’t be good for them to run into said creatures. The fifteen-year-old heaved a sigh before smiling wryly. "I know I was the one that brought it up. But I think I'd prefer if it was a part of some old, abandoned mining operation."

At this, his master laughed. "I'm sure you do. However, you have little to fear. There's no markings or sign of any animal passing through these tunnels in a long time. I imagine the salvaging companies that opened nearby have scared off whatever lived here before."

"That's good."

"Indeed, it is..." Both master and padawan jumped at the beeping from the comm as it interrupted their conversation, and Master Tapal accepted the transmission immediately. "Commander Coal, is everything alright?"

"Yes sir. Everything is fine. We still have a lock on your location but the droid party has split into two and have gone down separate routes.”

“I see,” Master Tapal answered, coming to a stop to concentrate on the conversation and putting a hand out to stop Cal as he did so. “How far out are you from our location?”

“Not long, Sir. If we keep heading towards you then we’ll reach your position within the hour.” The commander went to say something else but it was drowned out by static as the connection was briefly lost. The connection had been poor almost every time the clone commander had tried to speak to them, having only been truly stable the first time there had been a transmission. Cal guessed it was probably down to the fact that whilst he and his master were underground, the commander had been outside in the open with a clear connection. Now that he was somewhere underground too, there was little hope of them getting a strong signal.

The pause in conversation allowed Cal to drift away from his master where he could slide gratefully down the wall and sit on the ground. It was a relief to take the weight off of his feet. They had been walking for what felt like too many hours and because the droids had been tracking them there had been no opportunity for them to take a proper rest. After so many hours of walking around in circles, his feet and legs were aching and he felt more exhausted than he had in months.

His master didn’t stop him from resting, giving his padawan the chance to rest whilst he went about re-establishing the connection. Cal just watched him in silence. They really needed to improve transmission devices, but his master was against him doing anything to mess with the battalions tech. Whilst his master encouraged him to hone his ability to fix electronics, he did not believe that the field was a place to practice and experiment with any equipment.

Cal had tried to argue that they should just get an astromech droid instead. It would remove smaller problems like poor connection on comms immediately but apparently his master had worked recently with another Jedi who owned such a unit and according to the Lasat, the droid was more chaotic than it was useful.

Cal had been stuck at the temple catching up on work and lessons so hadn’t been there to see it in person. However, there was a rumour circling through the battalion which implied that the droid had shocked their general with some form of electrical device after the jedi had disagreed with something the droid had said. If the stories were true then Cal suspected his master’s refusal to work with droids had far more to do with that than it did with droids not being useful.

Either way he wanted to meet that droid. Whether it was because he wanted to meet the droid that could annoy his master so quickly or because he wanted to disassemble it for ruining his own chances of getting a droid, he wasn’t sure.

The static of the comm cutting out and the commander’s voice coming back clear brought Cal’s attention back to the situation at hand. He could figure out a way to get a droid later. Right now, there were more important matters to deal with.

“There’s still half the droids between you and us, sir. And we don’t know where the others are heading. I’d rather not split the men into two groups. How are things on your end?”

The Jedi looked at his Padawan and Cal did his best to smile encouragingly back at him. “We’re both fine but you’re right Commander. Stay together and keep making your way to us. Cal and I passed an intersection not long ago. If we head back to it and wait for you there the droids may pass us by. If not then we can attack them on two fronts and get out of here before the meet back up with the rest of their group.”

“Copy that, Sir.”

With that the call cut out and the Jedi Master looked to his Padawan. “It won’t be long before we’re out of here but for now we need to head back the way we came.”

Cal wanted to roll his eyes at the thought of more walking but stopped himself. He preferred the idea of more walking than fighting more droids without any back up. Pushing himself to his feet, he trudged over to his master, falling into step by the Lasat’s side as they headed back the way they had come. He chose to count his steps to prevent his mind from wandering to the idea of a bed and warm meal. What he would give for a ration bar right now.

They couldn’t have been walking for more than twenty minutes when the familiar sound of marching reached his ears. They both stopped immediately and Cal looked to his master for an answer. Lasat hearing was stronger than his own and Cal knew his master would already be thinking of their next course of action.

After several seconds Jaro Tapal frowned and then his face grew concerned. “That’s coming from ahead of us.”

Cal’s eyes widened with worry. “But I thought the Commander said the droids would be behind us.”

“He also said the party had split into two. They’ve somehow looped around in front of us. Come. We must turn back.”

“What?” Cal stammered, rushing to follow his master whose pace had quickened into a jog. He was far taller than Cal so the padawan was forced to run in order to keep up. They really were heading in circles, he thought miserably. “Aren’t we surrounded?” He was unable to keep the nervousness from his voice but that was unsurprising. Surrounded in an environment like this without blasters left them with very few options.

“If we must fight the separatists now, then we should confront the ones closest to the Commander. The men will be able to reach us far quicker that way.”

As the repetitive sound of marching faded behind them, it grew ahead of them and when it sounded like less of an echo they came to a stop. The jedi master looked around at the space they had to work wth, knowing there was little they could do but coming to a decision anyway. “Cal, I know we decided you weren’t a child, but I need you to hide in one of those holes.”

The attempt at humour was lost on Cal, who until that point had been staring into the darkness before them, straining his eyes in an effort to find the droids somewhere a head of them. Now his head snapped up to face his master. He was frowning long before his eyes met his Masters. “What? I’m not hiding whilst you fight.”

“Now is not the time to argue, Padawan. You will listen and do as I instruct.” Cal fell silent and reluctantly nodded his head, even if he didn’t agree with the orders he’d been given. His Master’s tone of voice was one he recognised immediately. It was one that was used very rarely and usually only when he was in ‘General’ mode. It was clear the Jedi expected to be listened too, and Cal realised it wasn’t worth the future lecture to argue with him now.

When Master Tapal saw he had his Padawan’s attention he continued. “I’m asking that you remain hidden whilst I distract the droids. We’ve been forced into confronting them without back up but that doen’t mean we can’t still fight them on our terms. Whilst they are distracted with attacking me, you will sneak up behind them. If they have split their forces in half then we stand a far higher chance of defeating them if we take them by surprise.”

Cal’s eyes widened involuntarily as he listened to his Master’s words. The Jedi had definitely fallen into General mode and Cal was still surprised at how quickly his Master came up with plans on the spot. “And when they’re distracted, I can take them out from behind,” he said as he realised where the Jedi’s plan was heading.

“Yes. But only when I give you the signal. Now hide quickly before they arrive.”

Cal was moving towards one of the tunnels in the wall, just getting ready to crawl into one of the larger ones he believed he would be able to squeeze into when another thought crossed his mind. “Won’t they realise I’m gone.”

Tapal gave him and reassuring smile. “I won’t give them the chance.”

His Master’s words gave him the confidence he needed and Cal quickly turned back to the wall, looking for somewhere to hide. Even though the tunnel he had chosen was one of the larger ones that littered the cave walls, it was still a tight fit and crawling into it was made infinitely more difficult due to the fact he had to go feet first. He wanted to make sure he could use his lightsaber to defend himself in case one of the droids saw him sneaking up on them. That would be impossible if they caught him crawling out backwards.

Cal crawled further back until he could only just make out the light of his Master’s lightsaber before that too turned off and he was left in complete darkness. All that was left to do was wait, and he did his best not to shift too much in the cramped environment. It was uncomfortable and even though his Master had said the creatures that had dug this tunnel were no longer here, he couldn’t help but think back to the movies and stories he had joked about with his friends back at the temple.

Like them, he had always found it ridiculous when main characters would stand about in open spaces when every instinct was screaming to them that they were in danger. Images of supernatural creatures appearing from nowhere in the dark behind the characters flashed through his mind, and he had to fight the urge to look behind him at the endless tunnel of darkness.

Somehow, he had ended up in a position much like those characters and he found it was far more unnerving experiencing it than it was watching the film in the dark at the temple, where he was in the comfort of his own room.

He felt emotions of comfort and reassurance flit across the training bond in his head, and immediately he felt himself relax and his breathing slow. It wouldn’t be long now before he could leave. He could already hear the sound of droids making their way towards them and as it only grew louder, he forced himself to remain completely still. His natural instinct was to shrink back further into the darkness but without the sounds of blaster fire there was a high chance that any movement on his part would alert the droids outside.

Stuck as he was in the enclosed space of the small burrow, if that happened, he would be entirely defenceless. Not even his Master would be able to help him if he was discovered. When the droids passed by his hiding spot they almost immediately started firing and the space ahead of him lit up as his Master turned on his lightsaber to deflect the fire.

The cave immediately filled with noise as the sounds of blasters and the whirring of a lightsaber reflected and echoed off the stone walls. It was loud enough that he could pull himself closer to the entrance of the tunnel without fear of being heard but he remained waiting at the entrance for several minutes, waiting for the signal.

When he heard his Master telling him to move across the training bond, Cal immediately did so, holding his lightsaber tightly but keeping it in front of him, prepared in case he was spotted.

He managed to haul himself out of the hole in the wall just as one droid at the back of the group stopped firing their blaster. “Wait a minute. I thought you said there were two Jedi.”  
“I did,” another battle droid standing beside it responded, half a second later lowering its own weapon as it seemed to register its own words. Cal only spared a glance at the amount of destroyed droids that already covered the floor, each with blaster bolts fired from their own weapons in their chests and heads.

As he creeped towards the back of the attacking force, he was vaguely aware of his Master standing nearly ten metres ahead of him reflecting blaster bolts back at the droids who fired them. So focused on making it to the droids both silently and quickly, the thought that he could be hit by a stray bolt never crossed his mind.

He prepared to attack the two droids and just as he ignited his lightsaber, the second droid to speak realised their mistake. “The small jedi…”

Cal never heard the end of its sentence as he cut cleanly through both idle droids. He managed to slice his way through several more before the other blocks of unintelligent metal figured out they were being attacked from behind as well as the front.

However, by the time those at the back of the group had turned to face him, Cal had already taken several steps backwards to give himself enough space to return the blaster fire that was now directed his way. When there were only two left, both of them facing Cal, an unknown presence forced them to the ground, as if an immovable weight had just dropped down on their heads.

Circuits spluttered and sparked from the broken joints and as the artificial lights of the droids powered down, Cal looked up to see his master with his hand out, clearly having been the one to finish the droids off. Immediately Cal stepped over the scattered droids’ parts to meet his master half way.

“Are you okay, Padawan?” The jedi asked, looking over his apprentice for any obvious injuries.

“Yes, master. I’m fine. We did it.”

“We did. We need to…” the jedi master stopped speaking as a warning screamed out across the force and they both looked up in time to see the second group of droids appear in the darkness.

The two Jedi barely had time to raise and ignite their weapons before bolts of red energy were being fired at them for the second time, the glow from the blasters lighting up the droids holding them. It was like staring at an unstoppable wall of metal that seemed to only inch closer to them with each second that passed.

If he thought his body had been exhausted before, Cal felt like he could drop to the ground now. His body was quickly tiring but he forced himself to push through it, following his Master’s lead as they both started to slowly retreat backwards. However, in the confusion of the second battle, both Jedi forgot about the destroyed droids that already covered the floor behind them.

Cal only remembered when his foot hit resistance and he stumbled backwards as he tried to regain his footing. The loss of concentration was all that was needed for a stray blaster bolt to make it past his defences. The warning in the force was enough for him to forget about trying to stay standing, and he trusted his instincts as he twisted his body in an attempt to avoid the danger.

Just as he landed painfully on the broken droids, falling badly on his hand in the process, he felt a searing pain glance across his cheek, just below his ear. For a moment all he could do was concentrate on the pain exploding from several parts of his body before shouting from his Master brought him back to the present.

He looked up to see that in the few seconds he had been out of it, the droids had advanced considerably on the two Jedi and his Master had stepped in front of him in an attempt to shield his apprentice.

“Cal. Are you alright? I need you to get up?” He could hear the worry in his Master’s voice as the Jedi shouted over the sounds of the fighting.

“Yes, Master,” he responded, unsure if he had been heard. The closer the droids were the harder it was to hear anything other than the weapons both parties held. I’m fine, he eventually said through the bond, pushing himself to his feet. He ignited his lightsaber again as he stepped up beside his Master, ignoring the sharp pain he felt along his wrist as he tightened his grip on the weapon.

His Master spared him a glance whilst continuing to block blaster bolts and Cal copied his actions, doing his best to brush off the fall and burning along the side of his face. Yet even as he focused all his attention on the twenty or so droids ahead of them, he could tell his movements were not as clean as they had been before, the injury to his wrist restricting how easy it was to move the lightsaber.

He momentarily considered switching the weapon over to his left hand but decided against it. Whilst he had practice using his left hand in training, he was nowhere near as confident using a left-handed stance as he was a right-handed and the middle of battle wasn’t the best time to test it out. Even injured, it was more likely he would find it easier holding the droids off as he was.

Again, the Jedi Master started to step backwards now that his Padawan was back on two feet and Cal was aware of the movement even when he was focused solely on what was ahead of him. This time as he stepped backwards, blocking attacks without thought as he did, Cal made sure to do so carefully, testing the ground out carefully before putting all his weight on one foot.

They quickly made it passed the obstacle, keeping it between them and the attacking force, but despite the number of droids dropping before them, there were still too many for them to take out easily in such confined quarters.

Most of the fire was directed at his Master, the droids having figured out he was the one in charge and more skilled, therefore the one they needed to take down first. Cal didn’t catch onto it, focused as he was on staying alive, but Tapal was also drawing the blaster shots towards himself. His Master’s attention was split between both himself and his Padawan, and blocked shots aimed at himself and the ones he could tell his Padawan would miss. He had a longer reach and could do so quickly enough that it didn’t affect the fluidity of his movements, however even he could feel the battle getting to him.

They had been up early this morning planning the assault on the droids, they had then engaged the Separatists and spent the rest of the day walking without a break or access to food and water. Now they were stuck in a fight in quarters too small for him to be able to take the droids out up close yet unable to retreat quickly unless they wanted to get shot in the back.

If they could just hold out until Commander Coal and the remaining clone force could reach them. Yet even though they could only be several minutes away he was uncertain whether that would be quick enough.

With the constant barrage of fire that lit up the cave and the smoke filling the air from both the blasters and the dust being shot off the walls by deflected shots, it was getting harder for both Jedi to keep up. Before Cal even truly realised what had happened, he saw his Master sink to his knees and he reacted on instinct by stepping between the older Jedi and the droids, giving everything he had to keep up a defence.

With all blaster fire now focused solely on him, blocking the attack was suddenly ten times harder and he felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach at the thought that he wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. His shields dropped at the thought, allowing his Master to feel his horror and it was enough to spur the Lasat to stand back up and step in front of his padawan, once again taking the brunt of the attack.

It was at this point Cal noticed the black burn marks dotting the back of his Master’s robes and whilst he had been training as a Padawan long enough to know what the damage of a blaster bolt on clothing looked like, his mind simply refused to accept the facts laid out before him. Not when there were so many smoking holes and his Master was holding his free hand tightly to his stomach.

A coldness washed over him; colder than the icy river water he went swimming in on a mission on some planet months before the war had started.

When his Master stumbled back a second time as more shots connected with his body, narrowly avoiding falling into his apprentice, the cold feeling turned to numbness, all sensations in his body and head disappearing as time felt as if it slowed down around him.

He still continued to block the attacks but he didn’t register how he was doing it. There was no conscious thought going into his actions. His body had gone into auto pilot, drawing on katas and training he had repeated hundreds of times in order to survive whilst his mind tried to make sense of the series of events that had just taken place in front of him.

As a ball of terror wound its way into his chest. Most of all he felt an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and uncertainty his mind grasping at straws as he tried to figure out what to do. When nothing came to him and with his Master unresponsive behind him, Cal called on the only thing he still had at hand, clawing on his last reserves of energy and the force as he searched desperately for an answer.

Just as all his emotions seemed to return to him and start to bottle over, just as panic started to kick in, he felt as if the force reached back to him. Without thinking he lowered his lightsaber, instincts driving his actions, and pushed both hands towards the droids. He still felt as if he was trying to wade through deep water, his muscles responding sluggishly as if the air was suddenly resisting his movement, but then there was a release of energy and the droids before him slowed even further until they were almost standing completely still.

If he thought he had been tired before, now all his muscles were screaming at him to collapse where he stood but he was too shocked by what he had done and the sheer power he had used. His attention was caught by a burning red blaster bolt hovering an arm’s reach to the left of him, like it was stuck in time. Yet even as he stood staring at it, he could see that it was slowly gaining speed again and without thinking he raised his lightsaber, positioning himself in a ready stance and defiantly ignoring that part of his brain that told him there was nothing he could do.

He was too drained, physically and now mentally in the force, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand for long at all. The droids started to speed up, and Cal repositioned his feet on the ground, resigned to fighting as thoughts of his friends and life back at the temple rushed through his head.

Just as the droids fell back into a normal speed, Cal felt movement behind him and out the corner of his eyes he saw white armoured figures stepping up beside him. They continued onwards moving around him and as each row of clone troopers passed by, they closed seamlessly into a straight formation, blocking his site of the droids ahead of him as they returned fire.

No clone faltered as they went into action, outnumbering the droids and taking them down quickly. It was enough to give Cal the chance to listen to his body, his knees finally giving out even as he tried to lock them in place. He didn’t notice the pain as his body was viscously jarred by the drop to the floor. He was still too numb, even as he turned to face his injured Master and grabbed a hold of the hand reaching towards him.

“Padawan,” the Jedi said in a voice barely above a whisper, gently squeezing the young boy’s hand. Cal stared in disbelief, his mind stumbling over the site of his Master barely conscious on the ground.

“The war… it’s only just begun…” The Jedi’s words came out quieter than before as he struggled to breathe past the pain clearly racking his body. It was like they caught somewhere in his throat before they reached his mouth, becoming stilted and barely audible.

“It’s okay, Master. You don’t need to talk.” It was a lie, and Cal doubted his Master would believe him but he said it anyway. The last thing he wanted was his Master to stop talking. He wanted to do anything in order to keep the Jedi talking. He’d even take a lecture for disobeying instructions if it meant his Master continued the conversation. Yet seeing how much effort it took for the Lasat to mutter a few syllables, he knew he couldn’t ask that. His Master needed to conserve as much energy as possible until the 13th’s chief medic made it to their side. Cross had to be here somewhere.

When the Lasat coughed in an attempt to clear his throat, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and with that came the awful realisation that his master was dying, with or without help. With that thought his eyes immediately started to sting and his vision blurred. With his free hand he rubbed at them in an attempt to clear away the tears, his vision focusing in enough time to see more blood pass the Jedi’s lips. They needed Cross now.

“Master, stop talking… You need to conserve your strength… I’ll get Cross…” He stumbled over his words, unsure what to say to get his Master to listen.

Tapal strengthened his grip on Cal’s hand as the Padawan made an attempt to find the clone medic. Cal immediately stopped his movements as his Master pulled him back, and he heard the Jedi try to stifle a grunt of pain at the effort. “No. Padawan. There’s no time.”

Whilst his Master seemed to gain some strength as he spoke, his words clearer as he centred all of his energy on making sure Cal heard him, Cal felt his body weaken at the last sentence. Now he was the one struggling to breath as he felt his chest constrict and he didn’t notice he was shaking his head, stammering out a denial he was unsure no one could understand.

Yet somehow his Master seemed to, reaching out with his other hand to place his lightsaber in Cal’s free one and he closed the young boy’s fingers around the weapon. Then he reached for his Padawan’s shoulder, squeezing it in a measure of comfort as he sent waves of reassurance and calmness across the bond to help ease his Padawan.

“Remember, trust in the force,” the Lasat said when Cal’s eyes focused once again on his face. Tears glistened in the child’s eyes and then down his cheeks and the older Jedi smiled as he pictured the adult his Padawan would become. A smile appeared on his face as his vision started to cloud over. “You’ll make for a fine Jedi one day, Cal. But for now… continue your training… take guidance when it’s offered… but always trust your instincts.”

The young jedi nodded along to his Master’s words, soaking in the final lesson and committing the words to memory. The hand around his own relaxed and dropped to the floor as the Jedi Master took a final glance at his Padawan.

Cal was shaking his head, reaching for the hand again and gripping it tightly in his own. “Please… Master…”

Cal didn’t register the hand on his shoulder and couldn’t find it in him to resist the guiding hands pulling him away. He vaguely heard the Commander whispering words in his ear but he didn’t pick up on what they were. His attention was centred on his Master and nothing else as Cross appeared from somewhere and knelt beside the General, pulling equipment from a bag slung over his shoulder.

There was a moment where clones were rushing back and forth, following the orders given to them by the medic but then just as quickly they came to a stop. When Cross shook his head and turned to look at him, Cal felt himself pull away from the Commander taking several steps back as he hit the cave wall and he let himself collapse against it. Sitting there with his knees pulled to his chest, staring at the lifeless body of his Master, Cal wanted to scream. All he could manage was a harsh sob as he dropped his head onto his knees. His Master’s lightsaber clasped tightly in his hand was of little comfort and he felt it drop from suddenly loose fingers.

He didn’t notice Commander Coal pick the weapon up as it rolled across the ground and he ignored the man as the clone sat beside him against the wall, a hand of silent support resting on his back before he was pulled into the Commander’s embrace.

He sat crying into the clone’s shoulder, and Commander Coal let him.


	2. Departure and Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m surprised I managed to get this chapter posted in a week. I'm trying to post only when the next chapter is mostly complete. The only problem is that the third chapter has been pretty difficult to write so far, so I wanted to get a lot more of that one completed first before posting this one. If I just posted this one without getting chapter 3 mostly finished first, then the wait would have been pretty long.
> 
> There are no warnings for this chapter that I can think of except you do get a little bit of the fallout from the ending of the last chapter, towards the end of this one.

“I spoke to Commander Cody,” Bant said, looking down at the chart in her hands and quickly typing something out onto the data pad. “Honestly, Obi-wan. What possessed you to kick a B2 Battle droid?”

Obi-wan pulled himself into a sitting position in the hospital bed, ignoring the glare Bant sent his way. If he was going to be lectured by a childhood friend then he would damn well make sure he was eye level with them whilst they did it. Apparently, he had been quite for too long because stopped what she was doing to watch him expectantly. The glare she had already sent him obviously wasn’t enough. There was little doubt in his mind that she expected his reasoning to be a poor excuse for what had happened, so he did his best to prepare himself for the argument that was likely to come.

He ran a hand through his hair and nervously cleared his throat. If only the HoloNet reporters could see him now. The great Negotiator, stuck for words when faced with an angry medic at least one head shorter than him. In his defence he had witnessed Bant when she was on a medical warpath multiple times in his life. She was ruthless and allowed no one the opportunity to weed their way around medical orders.

Garen and Quinlan could attest to that.

The three of them had learnt in life that there were two rules they needed to follow in order to survive the Medical Mon calamari Menace (Garen’s words but the nickname had stuck fast).

One, it was best to answer her questions and follow her advice, (Bant would scream its _orders!_ ) just to appease her so she would go on her way.

Two, if you decided to do something that she had explicitly told you not to do whilst on medical leave, make sure you were had the other two with you. That way if you were caught you had a strong defensive front line in one, and aid to escape smoothly in the other.

So, following the first of the two rules, Obi-wan quickly found an answer to her question. “Well. I’ve seen one of my men punch Grievous before without injury,” he answered, silently thanking Cody, for it wasn’t a lie. “I assumed he would be made of stronger stuff than a common battle droid. Apparently, I was wrong.”

Bant kept eye contact with him for several seconds before going back to her work, filling out his medical forms. The judgment and disagreement she communicated with those two actions was honestly quite concerning. Obi-wan was sure he caught a muttered ‘clearly’ as the Mon Calamari turned away from him to check a reading on a machine. “And if Cody jumped off a cliff, would you follow his lead?”

He was surprised she had guessed it was Cody but he made sure to keep it from showing. “Cody?” he questioned, feigning confusion. He wasn’t about to throw his friend into the firing line of Bant at her most terrifying. She had enough victims already, he was sure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bant.”

There was a third rule, one less followed by the group of friends, but sometimes still just as important. Don’t make light of the situation.

However, that one was usually ignored in order to annoy the healer in return. He could have a little fun too, he just had to make sure he stayed on the fine line they’d discovered whilst they were still teens. And again, not cross that line unless they had each other as backup/collateral.

“But in answer to your question. Perhaps I would. Why was he jumping?” He kept his face straight. Showing your own amusement at what you said was a sure-fire way to cross that line.

Bant turned and scowled at him, the look would give Mace Windu a run for his money. If it was ethical to throw your patients from a window, Obi-wan was sure Bant would be trying to do so right now. Luckily for him that was heavily frowned upon. The healer studied him for several seconds before saying, “To get away from you I imagine.”

As she went back to her work she added, “And you’re awfully close to crossing it,” because that was another thing. Bant was very much aware of their rules and she always seemed to be ready for when they slipped up.

“That was hardly subtle, Bant,” he said in response to the insult without a moment’s hesitation. Really, it was a cheap shot and not at all imaginative.

This time, Bant slammed the pad in her hands onto the bed, avoiding his injured leg, but only just. “Clearly, subtlety is lost on you. How many years have I been telling you to be careful? Yet here you are recovering from a severe fracture and dislocation because you thought it was a bright idea to kick a walking piece of metal.”

Put like that may he could see where his friend was coming from, it definitely wasn’t his smartest move. But what else was he supposed to do? He’d ‘misplaced’ his lightsaber at the time and he hadn’t had the chance to retrieve it from Cody before the droid had landed in front of him. He wouldn’t admit this to her though. Otherwise she may well throw medical procedure out the window, and him right along with it.

Strangely enough, now that she had mentioned the severity of his injury, his foot was really starting to ache. The quicker he could leave and go back to his rooms to sleep, the better. Yes, perhaps backing down and letting Bant give him the lecture free of arguments was the best choice. One had to choose their battles after all.

“Honestly, you’re just as bad as Quinlan.”

On the other hand, some battles were just too important to dismiss.

“I am not all like Quinlan!”

The indignation in his voice wasn’t an act. Quinlan was a great friend but to be compared to him? Not only was that incredibly inaccurate, (Quinlan was a chaotic mess of questionably reckless actions, all of which were completely ridiculous), it would also make the man in questions day to hear such a comparison be made. The older Jedi had spent as long as they had known each other pulling Obi-wan into crazy situations, trying to encourage his more mischievous side. Quinlan had not rubbed off on him.

He hadn’t.

He fought the desire to cross his arms and frown. Now was the time to argue his case, not act like a fresh-faced initiate. “The situation was unexpected and required a tactical and quick response.” Bant’s expression, one of slight disbelief, had only deepened, turning from somewhat amused to completely exasperated. If Mon Calamari had eyebrows there was no doubt in Obi-wan’s mind that she would have one raised. “And I told you already, I thought…”

“A battle droid was weaker than your archenemy, yes I heard. I’d just thought you would be smarter than him too. Clearly we both misjudged the situation.”

Obi-wan had stopped hearing her words at ‘archenemy’, the insult that was also there barely breaking past the surface of his mind. He did not have an archenemy. Such a thought was ridiculous. Yes, perhaps they had fought multiple times these past few months, and maybe he did enjoy insulting the cyborg, but that was only because it was a good distraction. The prospect of having an archenemy was insane and entirely too Quinlan for his liking.

He wasn’t as bad as Quinlan.

At that moment, someone cleared their throat, and he was saved from having to respond by a steady knock at the door. Their attention was clearly trying to be caught, so both occupants turned away from their argument, one more prepared to return to it at a later date than the other.

“Ah, Cody,” Obi-wan spoke up, instantly recognising the clone without hesitation. “You’re right on time. Bant here was just about to sign my release.”

“And I’m relieved you’re here to take him off my hands,” she added as she typed one last note on the data pad before slipping it into a pocket of her robes. “But I’ll make sure you’re right back here if I hear you’re not taking care of that leg. I don’t care that you don’t like it here and I don’t care that you’re the Negotiator. You won’t talk your way out of proper rest and the chance to heal.”

“Bant, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself,” he responded, a touch annoyed but keeping it hidden from his voice. Why were people so convinced he couldn’t look after himself? Perhaps he sometimes missed a meal or didn’t get enough sleep but he knew his limits. He’d raised a child to adulthood with without any extreme mishaps.

Force, he wondered just how fussy they would become if he took on another Padawan. The thought alone was enough to make him shudder.

“I’ll make sure he gets back to his quarters in one-piece ma’am,” Cody added, not at all helpfully in Obi-wan’s personal opinion.

Obi-wan chose not to point out that his rooms were only a twenty minute walk from their current location. What trouble could he get into in that time? But there was no point in giving them more opportunities to unite against him. Cody had known the woman for only a few minutes, but Obi-wan had decided the two got on far too well for his liking and he didn’t need that friendship developing anymore, thank you very much. Otherwise it was likely he would ever leave the medical wing. Surely there had to be something in medical practice that said healers couldn’t gang up and bully their patients into listening to them.

Pushing himself from the bed, Obi-wan ignored the sudden sharp ache of pain as he put weight onto his injured ankle and covered up his grimace by making a pretence of looking for his boots. Only when the pain had disappeared to where it was only a minor irritant did he put his boots on, making sure to sit down as he did so.

He really wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of heading back to his rooms with his ankle like this, yet at the same time there was no way he was staying cooped up in the healing ward any longer. All he had to do was keep up the charade of being perfectly fine until the point where Cody left him. He could do that. So long as they kept at a relaxing pace, Obi-wan was sure he could make it to his rooms without the need of any sort of aid or support.

Bant had other ideas though. He hadn’t noticed both her and Cody’s aborted actions to catch him when he slid from the bed. He did notice the pair of crutches shoved under his nose before he had the opportunity to add any weight to his ankle again though.

He levelled a glare at the healer, studiously ignoring his Commander who had taken a step between himself and the door and was now stood, arms crossed, levelling his own glare at the Jedi as well.

Holding back a sigh and the small irritation at their coddling, Obi-wan took the crutches, plastering on a face smile as he settled into using them.

He continued to keep up the façade for the further five minutes Bant kept him behind, running him through what he could and could not do. The overarching point of it all being that he could, under no circumstances, do any strenuous activities for the next few weeks. Extreme exercise and sparring were off limits unless he wanted to reverse his progress, walking for any large amounts of time was not recommended but if necessary, lots of small breaks were encouraged.

After the small lecture, where Cody opted to remain silent but was in all support of the healer, the Jedi and clone were free to leave. It was a relief to be out of the medical facilities and Obi-wan welcomed the change of scenery with open arms as he and Cody set off deeper into the temple. His ankle was still sore, but he found that it was quickly lessening as time passed by. He could admit to himself that maybe it had something to do with the crutches.

Cody continued to remain silent whilst they walked, typing away at his comm as he sent a message to who knows where. Obi-wan went to make some comment about everyone around him being glued to technology (an old man’s joke he was sure Anakin would call it) but the way Cody was concentrating as he typed told him that it was obviously important and he was loath to interrupt.

He didn’t mind the silence anyway. After the noise of war which had been his constant companion these past weeks, the silence was a welcome relief.

It gave him the chance to think clearly for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. He was relieved for the time off if he was being honest with himself. The past few months had consisted of one mission after another with very few opportunities for an actual break. In fact, unless you considered the travel time between one battle and the next, in which Obi-wan and Cody would be planning the next mission and the rest of the men aboard the Negotiator were cataloging supplies and making preparations, the 212th had had no time for recovery at all.

Put simply, with access to the force, Obi-wan was still exhausted and happy to accept time off, even if he would be spending that time catching up on paperwork and attending council meetings. If that was how he felt then the men must be overjoyed to be back on Coruscant and live a life outside of military campaigns and negotiation missions. Of course, they would still have work to complete too, but their down time could actually be spent in the city instead of trapped on a ship where there was very little do unless you had the imagination to come up with it yourself.

Out the corner of his eye Obi-wan noticed Cody clip the comm back to his belt. “Sorry about that, Sir. It needed an immediate response.”

Obi-wan shrugged and was grateful when the pace slowed down a little more so that the two could talk easily. Walking with one foot was surprisingly more difficult than expected. “That’s quite alright, Commander. Everything’s fine with the men I hope.”

“Of course, Sir. They’re happy for the time off. You couldn’t get them to leave the barrack’s quicker if you tried.”

The Jedi Master huffed a laugh. “That’s good. I imagine the past two months have been a challenge for us all. I’m glad my injury has aided you all so nicely.” He made sure to smile as he said this, putting humour into his tone so the Commander knew he was joking.

He was well aware his humour was incredibly dry and there were times where it wasn’t best to put it to use. He could save the straight-faced comments for Anakin and the subtle insults for any Senators who were being particularly irritating that day.

Anakin was still off planet with his Padawan at the moment, but there was a high chance he would run into a suitably oblivious and annoying Senator at some point. The Jedi Order was involved in a galaxy wide war and as a result they were now more involved in politics than they had been in a long time. It was virtually impossible at the moment to be a part of the council and not run into a Senator wishing to push their political agenda on you every other day.

“Have you managed to find some time off too?”

Cody hesitated for a moment, deliberating his answer before he spoke. “Not as much as I’d hoped to,” the clone admitted, and if his Commander wasn’t so good at hiding his emotions, Obi-wan was sure he would see the man’s shoulders slump and a sigh escape past his lips. Instead, impossibly, Cody only stood up straighter as he continued, slipping back into Commander mode as he prepared his next words.

“Commander Coal of the 13th Battalion has asked for my assistance in relocating his men under new Generals. Their last campaign turned south fast after their General fell in combat. He thinks it’s unlikely they will be given a new General with how many of them are left and would rather relocate his men himself than leave it to some else.”

“That’s understandable,” Obi-wan responded. If the 212th were disbanded, he’d rather himself or Cody organised the relocations over some Senator who didn’t know nor care about the men.

Even though it was unlikely Cody knew many of his brother’s in the 13th, Obi-wan could still tell the man had taken the news badly. The Marshal Commander walked stiffly, his back ramrod straight and he spoke as if he was giving a debriefing instead of talking to a friend. Obi-wan wasn’t surprised by the reaction. It was hard for anyone to hear that so many men had been lost in one battle, but for the clones who all considered themselves a family…

The Jedi were Obi-wan’s family, and if the situations were reversed, he couldn’t picture himself taking the news well either. Flashes of the Geonosian arena entered his memory and the high number of casualties both the Jedi and the clones had faced. He fought against the instinct to shudder. Five months had passed and the memories were still fresh in his mind.

“Where were they stationed?”

“Bracca, Sir.” Obi-wan frowned. He was unaware there had been a need for a stationed attack force there, but then again, he and the 212th had been out of the loop for a long time. He wondered what the reason could be for such an obvious display of Republic presence on a planet that was, for the most part, under Republic control. Then he wondered if he had spoken allowed because Cody continued, answering his question.

“Commander Coal says they were stationed there not long after the Republic heard rumours about Separatist sympathisers hiding there. A recon division were initially deployed but that spurred the Seps to coordinate an attack. The 13th were ordered to hold the line until more support could arrive.”

“How heavy were the losses?”

“He doesn’t know the exact numbers yet,” Cody responded but Obi-wan could hear the silent _‘too many’_ in his friends’ voice. If the Commander of the 13th Battalion thought it was more likely his men would be relocated to different armies instead of just gaining a new General and commission of clones, then the death count must be catastrophic. _Cody’s brothers are dying every day, and he’s excited for time off_ he thought miserably as a sudden wave of guilt washed over him.

“What was the name of their General?”

“Jaro Tapal, Sir. Did you know him?”

He felt a mixture of relief and guilt when it was no one he knew. He didn’t even recognise the name. “I’m afraid I didn’t. Do you know what happened to him?”

“Coal’s not certain himself. His General was separated from the men and they spent most of the day trying to find a way to get to him before a hunting force of droids could. When they got there, their General down and his Padawan was barely keeping himself standing. They’re due to arrive tomorrow. Coal’s hoping he can get the boy to open up about what happened, that way the kid may not have to be involved in the debriefing.”

It was unlikely, but definitely worth the try. Perhaps he could talk to the Council, if they couldn’t stop the debriefing, they may be able to alter it to make it slightly easier for the kid.

He remembered what it was like just giving a debriefing to half of the Council members after Qui-Gon’s death. It had been one of the hardest moments of his life and he had been a Padawan close to his Knighting then.

This Padawan sounded young from the way Cody talked about him. Not for the first time Obi-wan was left wishing for everything to go back to the years before the war broke out. It was a time where it was rare for a Jedi to die whilst in the field. It still happened, but maybe only once or twice every few years during peaceful times.

Now there were reports of Jedi falling in battle every other week and it was only becoming a more frequent occurrence as the war dragged on. The Jedi were already spread thinner and many were forced into staying away from the temple for extended periods at a time.

The temple was now emptier than he could ever remember it being. He and Cody had passed next to no Knights or Masters in the journey through the halls so far. Back when he was a child it had taken a lot of practice and skill to walk through the temple without being spotted. These days he imagined the Initiates and Padawans did so without having to put much thought into it at all.

Jedi dying and leaving behind Padawans had become increasingly common and there were rarely enough willing Jedi to continue their training. In the past, Jedi Masters trusted the force and their own observations when it came to taking a Padawan. Today, those thoughts were only the first in a long list of questions they had to ask themselves before taking on that responsibility.

Did they have the time to raise a child? Could the Republic afford to lose a Jedi to training an apprentice? The obvious answer of course was yes. There were plenty of Jedi without Padawans who could take their place on more dangerous missions. Those that usually couldn’t were slowly being forced to do so anyway, even with a child at their side. Just look at Anakin and Ahsoka. An unlikely paired force together by the war. Luckily it had worked out for his former Padawan and Grand-padawan. Some were not as fortunate.

But these questions then led onto the more personal ones. Were you prepared to take a child to war every day? Could you? Would you be able to cope if your Padawan was killed or captured? These were possibilities that were far more likely to occur now and with the likelihood so high, a lot of the Jedi were finding that, no, it wasn’t something they wanted to or could deal with.

There were more Initiates in the temple now than there had ever been in the past. The council had raised the cut off age for becoming a Padawan by several years already, just to accommodate for the lack of Masters available or willing to take on new apprentices. It still wasn’t helping much but there were enough older Jedi stuck at that temple that extra, more advanced classes could be organised for those Padawan’s without Master’s.

For Padawan’s who had lost their Master in battle, the chances of finding another were incredibly low with everything that was going on at the moment. It was just one more reason to stop the war quickly. Today was apparently a day to remind him of what the Jedi were fast becoming.

Soldiers in a war, not teachers and peaceful negotiators in the galaxy.

“I was actually going to ask if we could take some of the 13th,” Cody said after typing away at his comm yet again. It quickly broke Obi-wan from his musings, and he returned his full attention to his Commander. “Coal has put together a squad of his men. I think they’ll fit in well with the 212th, Sir.”

“You know you don’t need to ask for my permission with things like this. I have complete trust in your judgement.”

“Protocol dictates I do, Sir.” Obi-wan felt an amused smile tug at the corner of his lips. The Marshal Commander of the 212th was nothing if not by the book.

Like him, the man made an effort to follow rules and expectations. People were less likely to spot them breaking the rules if everyone thought them to be too uptight to think about doing such a thing, let alone being able to pull it off so smoothly. It worked wonders and kept people on their toes. It also helped that he enjoyed being able to catch people off guard and then watch them as they tried to figure out what happened. It gave him a sense of satisfaction. Perhaps not very Jedi like, but very funny all the same.

He was well aware that his Commander could be just as sneaky, preferring to work behind the scenes. It was what made them such a good team when leading the 212th. They both understood each other and knew how the other one thought. They also both had a close friend who was the opposite, reckless and up front. Anakin and Rex made a great team in their own right for the same reasons. Obi-wan was comfortable running into battle when he had Cody and Anakin to cover him. In the same respect, Anakin could do the same for he had Obi-wan and Rex.

“Send me their files and I’ll look them over.” The conversation was interrupted by Cody’s comm going off again and the man immediately answered it. The frown that appeared on his face immediately after told Obi-wan the message was obviously a concerning one, probably from Commander Coal if the consideration Cody put into the message before he sent it was any indication. Helping Commander Coal was obviously a priority for Cody, especially if he had chosen to give up a lot of his time off to help the other clone.

“If you need to leave Commander, feel free to do so.”

Cody was shaking his head as he answered, “It’s alright, General. It can wait.”

Obi-wan highly doubted it. After leading his men on the battlefield for five months, he’d grown to quickly pick up on the tells when a lot of them were lying. From his experience he had found that the clones held a great deal of loyalty to the Republic and the Jedi. As such, they put their own needs and desires second in order to serve and do their job.

He was also well aware of the implications surrounding the production of the clones and their deployment as the main serving force in the Republic military. Whilst as of yet, there was nothing he could do to help them with that situation, Obi-wan could make sure the men serving under him were as comfortable and relaxed as possible. The clones need to make sure he was alright made that somewhat harder, he had quickly started looking for the signs when they were not being completely honest with him.

Because of this he could tell Cody was in fact concerned about him and his injury, but Obi-wan could also tell that the man wanted to leave in order to aid his friend in what was likely a difficult and time-consuming job.

“Cody, I insist,” Obi-wan said, when the man made no move to change his mind. Hopefully the use of the clones name instead of rank would press the issue. They were talking as friends right now, not as High General and Marshal Commander. Cody wasn’t expected to stand around waiting to follow his orders. “My room is only down the corridor. I can make it there without a chaperone, no matter what Bant believes.”

Cody seemed to hesitate before answering, eyeing Obi-wan suspiciously and glancing down at the injured leg. In turn, Obi-wan made a point of taking a step with the crutches, just to prove that he could. Whether that was the deciding factor, or whether Cody just genuinely believed there wasn’t enough distance between their current location and Obi-wan’s apartments for his General to get into trouble, he eventually relented, nodding once in confirmation. “Thank you, sir. But maybe you should rest your leg instead of dancing around on it.”

Obi-wan kept his face blank as he started to walk away, still facing Cody as he did so. “Don’t worry, Commander. I plan to do exactly that. Bant is sure to check up on me at some point and I won’t risk her catching me do such a thing.”

As he turned around, he swore he caught site of Cody rolling his eyes but the clone was out of his site before he could comment on it.

True to his word, Obi-wan made it back to his rooms without encountering any problems. He would happily tell Bant if it didn’t run the risk of exposing Cody to her wrath. The man had said he would make sure Obi-wan got back to his rooms without further injury after all, and Bant would be sure to hold him to that.

Opening the door and entering his rooms, Obi-wan went straight to his kitchen to start boiling water. The temple healers neither served good tea, nor did they serve good caf so he didn’t even have a suitable alternative when he was there.

As the water started to boil, Obi-wan leant back against the worktop, taking some weight off of his ankle as his thought wandered back to what Cody had told him.

He eyed the datapad lying on the dining table a sizable distance away from him. Quick use of the force had it in his hand in seconds, and he quickly got to work, opening up a message to the Council. He was sure he could convince them to make that debriefing slightly more acceptable. He was known as the Negotiator, it should be a simple task, and Bant hadn’t said he couldn’t do his work from his kitchen.

He would rest afterwards.

**-o-0-o-**

Nearly twenty-four hours after Obi-wan settled down on his sofa with a data pad in hand, _the Albedo Brave_ , containing what was left of the 13th Battalion, came out of hyperspace above Coruscant.

Whilst the men were preparing for the landing procedure, Cal was in his room aboard the ship, dutifully packing his belongings into his bag. There wasn’t all that much to put away, going on a mission always meant you needed to pack light.

A few spare sets of clothes, some extra food rations, study work, a canister of water and a data pad containing the write up for the Bracca campaign were all he had brought with him in preparation for the mission. The data pad also contained some books that he had downloaded on there not long before they had left. But apart from that, the only personal item he had bought with him was a repair kit for his lightsaber that he had had since he was an initiate. It also included all the tools he would need if he decided to start fiddling around with any tech if he completed his school work and grew bored.

He was currently attempting to fix an old training remote that he had found abandoned in one of the cupboards in a training salle back at the temple. His plan was to fix it (with a few added improvements on the side) and return it back to the cupboard it had been left in before anyone noticed it had disappeared in the first place.

At the time he and his friend, Dala, had thought it would be great fun to add some extra surprises to the training droid. They had plans to set up camp in the training rooms, practicing their kata’s and sparring all day in order to catch some oblivious Padawan go to use the training droid only to find it far more complex and upgraded than they thought. Now those plans were firmly forgotten, the broken piece of equipment buried at the bottom of his bag along with everything else he had already thrown in there.

The only thing Cal packed with any real care was what was left of his Masters lightsaber. Most of it had been left behind in the cave, broken into several pieces and lost in the darkness. After the final droid had been taken care of, they hadn’t spent any more time underground than they needed to.

By the time they had prepared his Master’s body to be moved and dealt with the more seriously injured clones, Cal had been oblivious of what was happening around him. He had been conscious and moving of his own free will but he’d also been lost to the world. His hand had remained tightly clamped around the one half of the weapon after Coal had returned it to his hand and the other half had been forgotten until long after they had left the caves. By the time Cal realised what had happened, they were too far away for anyone to risk their lives going back to find it, not when there had been more reports of incoming droids.

Guilt gnawed away at his insides as he thought about the rest of the weapon that had been left behind. His Master had always told him a lightsaber was as important to a Jedi as a hyperdrive was to a Star Destroyer. Without it they could still function and do their job, but with it they were whole, able to effectively do all parts of their job. They could defend and protect people in a way no one else could. Each lightsaber was individual to that jedi.

Without it a piece of them was missing.

It was a piece of his Master that he had left behind, carelessly and without thought.

A sudden bout of nausea hit Cal without warning and the back of his throat burned as he fought back against unshed tears. Instinct had him rushing to the small bathroom connected to his quarters. But just as quickly as his legs had pulled him to the joining room, they also came to a stop, the feeling passing as the door slammed back on its hinges. Cal barely had the foresight to move out of its path as the door came swinging back towards him.

The door missed him by a few centimetres yet he barely flinched as the air moved beside his head. He was to caught up by the site of himself in the small mirror.

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his skin pale, making the small scratches that littered his face stand out all the more. He presumed it was from small bits of rock that had turned into tiny projectiles after they had been shot from the walls by deflected blaster bolts, but he didn’t remember feeling it happen at the time. They didn’t even bother him now. Not like the injury hidden under the bandage and bacta on the right side of his face.

Cross said it would scar, but the blaster burn would fade with time. Cal didn’t care too much about that now. It was more the constant itching that bothered him in that moment. Even the slight tingling from the numbing agent in the bacta wasn’t enough to stop the skin from being irritated by the burn.

He gingerly touched the bandage; a stinging sensation made its way passed the bacta and his eyes watered despite themselves. Apparently, that was all that was needed for the tears to start falling as his carefully crafted composure shattered and he leaned both hands against the wall for support as he tried to bring his emotions back under control.

He couldn’t stand here crying. He’d spent all night crying once he had finally convinced Cross to leave him alone. He didn’t have time now. He needed to pack. He needed to make sure he had collected all of his Master’s belongings from his own room. He’d checked already, multiple times. But he needed to check once more before they arrived at the temple. He just needed to get himself together long enough to do so.

Cal wiped the sleeve of his arm across his face, aggressively removing the tears that fell down his cheeks. The action caused a slight twinge of pain in his wrist, badly sprained by his fall but not broken, but he was too focused on removing the evidence of his emotions from his face.

They were above Coruscant and _the Albedo Brave_ would be docking at the temple soon. He couldn’t afford for anyone to see his tears. More importantly he didn’t want anyone to see them, especially other Jedi.

He took a few seconds to control his breathing, willing the tears to stop falling, even though the desire to let them continue remained. When they stopped, the fifteen-year-old rushed from the bathroom, heading back to his bag to continue putting everything away, going through the motions in a haze as he forced his thoughts onto other topics.

With as much care as possible, taking as much time as was needed, because he could use as much time as was needed for this, Cal gently placed the charred and broken piece of his Master’s lightsaber in his cloak, the weapon cold in his hands. Then he wrapped the lose ends around the piece of metal, protecting and cushioning the fragile object before positioning it between all his spare clothes.

He couldn’t protect his Master from the droids, but he could look after the part of the Jedi his Master had entrusted to him.

Cal took in a deep breath, used the force to bring the device to his spare hand and opened the door leading to the rest of the ship. That would give him enough time to check the Jedi Master’s room a final time.

His Master wouldn’t want anything left behind, so Cal would just have to make sure nothing else was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in terms of The Clone Wars TV show, I’m pretty sure Obi-wan and Grievous didn’t fight again until the battle of Kamino or when Eeth Koth is captured. However, in terms of this fic and hopefully possible future fics, there’s episodes I want to cover before either of those arcs. But I also like the idea of Bant and Cody ganging up against Obi-wan about his feud. It’s unlikely they never met again until then, so in this AU they’ve met multiple times since. 
> 
> In the same respect, I’m pretty sure it’s the Eeth Koth arc where a clone punches Grievous and I’ve always pictured that clone being Cody. Cody can be just as reckless as Obi-wan, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, and in this AU he’s made a habit of punching droids/Grievous if the time calls for it. There’s a reason why the clones have gone hand to hand against droids multiple times on screen, and Cody is most definitely not the reason why…


	3. Meditation and Contemplation (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while. I honestly can’t believe nearly a month has passed, but a combination of life suddenly getting busy and this chapter being a pain to write meant writing it was slow process. This chapter was originally meant to have more happen, but due to its length and the fact I hadn’t updated in weeks, I decided to split it into two.
> 
> I’m not sure how I feel about this chapter. It kind of feels a bit all over the place at times but I don’t know if that’s because it was a hard one to write or because I only had time to write small bits at a time. When editing this I actually noticed that I’d slipped from writing in past tense to present. I’m pretty sure I picked up on the times when that happened and changed it, but if not feel free to let me know.
> 
> The only warning I can think for this chapter is that it focuses on Cal and his head space as he tries to deal with Tapal’s death and continue with life around him. I can’t say that it’s an accurate representation of dealing with loss, only hope that it’s not unbelievable. I’ve gone with the idea that Cal’s emotions are all over the place. Sometime he’s sad, other times he’s angry etc, and he constantly feels like he has very little control over how he’s feeling at any particular time.

**Chapter 3 – Meditation and Contemplation (Part 1)**

Cal was sat in one of the corridors leading to the council rooms when someone first approached him about what had happened. He had been at the temple for less than a day, _the Albedo Brave_ having docked in at Coruscant the evening before, and he was currently waiting for a council meeting where it was likely he would be giving a report on the situation on Bracca.

In an attempt to avoid anyone he knew, he had arrived early and hidden himself away in one of the window alcoves that lined the hallway. Whilst he had so far succeeded in that respect (he had seen no one since sitting down here twenty minutes prior), he found that being completely alone for just that short amount of time left his mind with the chance to wander, and his thoughts kept drifting between what had happened on Bracca and what would soon happen in the council rooms.

He was definitely centring on his anxieties but with nothing else to do he found it was impossible not to get lost in thought whilst he stared blankly out at the Coruscant skyline. He was tempted to leave and perhaps return with a book or something to use as a distraction, however, he was expected to join the council in under an hour which left him with very little time to do so.

As it stood, even though he had been the one to avoid people in the first place, he was grateful when someone sat down beside him, even if he didn’t notice until the clearing of a throat alerted him to their presence.

He was unable to hide his shock at the noise, caught off guard by someone having sat down on the cushioned window sill next to him without making a noise. He instantly recognised the person as a clone trooper. One marked in the bright yellow paint of the 13th Battalion, in fact. Yet turned away from him as the soldier was, Cal was unable to get a clear enough view of the identifying patterns and designs that would tell him exactly which member it was.

This meant relying on the force to feel for the clone’s signature, and the idea alone drained him of the little energy he had. Normally such a task would be easy but he had eaten the bare minimum over the last week of travel and he had slept just as much.

Luckily, the situation didn’t call for him to rely on the force to identify the man beside him. Instead the clone was quick to remove their helmet once they realised that they had Cal’s attention. He recognised the mixture of Mando’a and Basic tattooed down the side of the clone’s neck, starting under his ear and disappearing beneath their armour, and felt some measure of relief that he knew the clone better than most in the battalion. He didn’t much fancy pretending to engage in conversation with someone who was a still virtually a stranger, even if they were just trying to make him feel better.

He didn’t exactly want to talk with a friend either, but he hadn’t made that obvious enough apparently.

“You know, you pick a pretty good place to wait out these meetings,” Natter said, twisting in his seat slightly to face Cal. “You’ve got a nice view, it’s hidden from just about all other lifeforms.”

Cal turned away from him, glaring back out the window. It turned out he’d rather be left with his thoughts. “It’s almost like I don’t want to talk to anyone,” he muttered, not bothering to hide his irritation. Could he not be left to worry about a council meeting in peace?

He wasn’t sure how he was meant to relay what had happened on Bracca to the most respected Jedi in the Order. He’d always had his Master by his side, picking up the report for him when he was uncertain and continuing when he struggled with the pressure. This was the first council meeting he would be a part of where his Master wouldn’t be standing by his side, towering over him but always a solid and reassuring presence. His first meeting without his Master was meant to be because he’d completed his first mission alone, not because his Master had died in his arms.

The Coruscant skyline blurred for a moment, the small speeder lights in the distance joining into one, and he blinked his eyes multiple times to clear them before Natter could notice.

Beside him, Natter had fallen silent, taking the hint. It surprised him, but now that Natter had listened to him, all Cal wanted was for the clone to start talking again. To fill up the silence, because after it had been broken, Cal realised he really didn’t like the emptiness that had been following him around since he’d arrived at the temple last night. His emotions felt all over the place, like he couldn’t stick to feeling one thing before he wanted the opposite to happen.

His friend Dala had tried to be there for him last night, but the glaringly obvious reason for him being there in the first place had been hanging over their conversations, even after they’d addressed it. It wasn’t Dala’s fault and Cal didn’t hold it against him, but Dala didn’t know how to function around the topic of deaht and it showed. In the end he was happy to leave for the council meeting that morning, but that changed as soon as he was standing by the elevator.

“Sorry,” Cal said, concentrating on not letting his voice crack part way through the one word. The word was whispered, but Natter still heard him and just shrugged in response. The action could almost be seen as comical. The clone wasn’t small, but the alcove the two were squashed into was, and he was still wearing his armour, so there wasn’t exactly much room left for either of them to move smoothly.

“It’s alright, kid.”

Cal looked at Natter in the reflection of the window, noting that his armour was still dirty, with scuffs on the paint, and dirt smeared across the front and dust caught in the cracks. He hadn’t had the time to clean or repair it yet, which meant the man had probably had as little sleep as Cal had the past few nights, because he knew all the troopers would repair their armour before crashing for the night, so long as they were in a safe enough environment to do so.

Bracca had been a disaster. There was probably still a lot of mess to clean up, even now, when they were away the front lines.

“I’m guessing you’re here for the council report,” Natter guessed, leaning back against the window.

Cal nodded once, scowling out to the horizon. “They want to know what happened to Master Tapal.”

They wanted to know how he died. They were most likely curious to know how he had survived when a fully trained Jedi Master hadn’t. He would have to tell them it was his fault his Master was dead. He knew that was true. His presence had just been a distraction. He wasn’t good enough to be out on the front lines, not when he couldn’t even keep his footing on flat ground.

If he hadn’t been there then his Master wouldn’t have been distracted with helping him. If he hadn’t been there then his Master wouldn’t have had to split his attention. Master Tapal would have been able to concentrate on the droids completely. If he hadn’t tripped over those droids, better yet, if he hadn’t been there at all, his Master would have been there to oversee the rest of the campaign and a lot less people would have died.

“You know, I’ve seen a lot of brother’s fall in the last five months,” Natter said, wiping at some mark on the bracer on his right arm, just below the elbow. “But I’ve seen just as many have to deal with the fallout of those deaths afterwards. I’d say I’ve seen just about every response someone could have to a loved one falling out there. Everyone deals with those responses differently, but the initial reaction is always the same.” At this, Natter stopped wiping at the stain on his armour and placed his hand on Cal’s shoulder.

He didn’t talk for some time. Cal could feel the clone staring at him and he did his best to pretend the man wasn’t there. He intently stared out at skyline, watching the small lights that indicated traffic lanes full of speeders, even at this early time in the morning. People getting on with their day, continuing their lives. Yet he was stuck here. The hand on his shoulder a constant weight that kept his mind from drifting, an anchor keeping Cal in the present.

Eventually the clone spoke up again. “It’s not your fault.”

“If I hadn’t tripped over those droids…”

“Then perhaps he would have instead. You were forced into fighting close-quarters in a small space. It was dark. You’d both been on the move for hours after fighting out in the open for just as many.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No. I don’t.” Cal turned from the reflection and looked at Natter in person, mouth open in shock. “I don’t know everything that happened down there. But I do know that you would’ve done everything in your power to help him. We turned up and you were the one holding off a squadron of droids. If you hadn’t been there, he’d have been fighting all of the B1s on his own, and he would have been dead long before we made it to him. He wasn’t because you were the one standing between him and them.”

Cal sighed, looking back out the window. “I guess.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Natter reiterated, squeezing his shoulder for good measure. Yet Cal couldn’t find it in him to agree, even just to appease the clone. The conversation ended for a bit, but Natter could be relied upon to start it back up. He always could. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Not really,” Cal answered, turning to the clone when there was no response. The look of open concern on Natter’s face had Cal feeling instantly guilty, and he felt the immediate desire to try and alleviate some of the obvious worry, because he wouldn’t be lying about that. “I slept on my friends couch. Their Master said I could, it just wasn’t very comfortable.” It wasn’t a complete lie anyway.

“I see.”

“It’s fine,” Cal added, when Natter had nothing else to say on the matter. “Really. I’m fine.”

The lie was as easy to see through as it was to say apparently. Natter didn’t even try to hide the scepticism from his face, but he didn’t mention it, and for that, Cal was unbelievably grateful. The clone went back to trying to clean the scorch mark from his armour, the black discolouring fading slightly. It distracted both of them as it became clear that the mark wasn’t from a glancing shot like it had first appeared, the armour was damaged underneath the grime Natter had managed to rub away, melted and deformed in some places with small cracks spidering apart from the centre point of the impact zone.

Fortunately for Natter, the shot hadn’t broken through the armour completely. He wouldn’t have lost his life if it had, but he would have lost an arm for certain, even Cal could tell that from his limited time in the field.

He wondered how Natter hadn’t noticed that before. Clearly, he hadn’t had time to clean and maintain his armour since leaving Bracca, but Cal thought damage like that would’ve been picked up in the field pretty quickly, if not immediately.

Then it clicked. The only reason it would have been missed was if it had been caused in a close-up fire fight (where luck had been on their side that it hadn’t broken through the armour, one where there was very little time to assess the damage to yourself due to the more serious injuries of the people around you and the enemies still firing at you. The Commander said that they had easily dealt with the Separatists after the 13th had been separated from their General so it hadn’t been caused then, and Natter had stayed close to him when they had been retreating from the planet, so it couldn’t have been caused at that point either.

Which left only one fight in the campaign where the damage could have been sustained without anyone noticing, and both of them realised this at the same time. However, before Cal’s thoughts could linger on that realisation, Natter was covering up the mark and clearing his throat in a purposefully loud and forceful manner. By doing so he successful drew Cal’s eyes back to his face.

“That explains the bruising there,” the clone grinned, “I thought it was from Copper pulling me down with him when he tripped over some supply crates last night.”

Cal frowned, willing to take the out that was offered to him. “How’d he trip over a supply crate? They’re huge.”

“The boys didn’t exactly keep the barracks tidy whilst we were away. But we’ll get them back now that they’re off planet. You can help if you want. Old Foxy can’t pull rank on us if we have a Jedi on our side.”

Cal grinned despite himself. “I’ll think about it. But Copper said Commander Fox can be as bad as Commander Coal when he’s angry.”

Natter shrugged, leaning back against the window as he crossed his legs. “He can be sometimes.” The clone glanced briefly at his comm, and then turned back to Cal. They apparently still had a little time before the briefing, but Natter was getting ready to move. “So, you couldn’t sleep last night. You didn’t try any of your freaky Jedi tricks? I’ve seen Jedi sit on the ground for hours without moving a muscle. A sofa has to be better than that.”

When Cal turned a questioning eye to him, he was quick to elaborate. “You know… meditation… and other force techniques. I’m pretty sure I heard Cross ranting the other day about Jedi substituting magic for sleep.”

Cal huffed out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. The number of times they had discussed this topic was ridiculous, but the both refused to accept the similarities in the others argument. His brain acted on auto-pilot as he said, “it’s not magic.”

Natter raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Please. You go around in your fancy cloaks, lifting things with your mind. That’s the definition of magic. Me and Copper read ‘ _The Obsidian Chronicles’_ the last time we were docked on Coruscant. The main character can do everything you Jedi can and he calls it magic.”

“He also thinks it’s appropriate to use a bow against guys with blasters,” Cal added, shaking his head, the part of his brain that liked mechanics reminding him of just how ridiculous that idea was. “They’re kid’s books, they’re not meant to be realistic.” He still remembered those books, even if he hadn’t picked one of them up since he was ten, possibly younger. Then another thought occurred to him, and he looked at the soldier seated beside him. “Why were you reading ‘ _The Obsidian Chronicles’_?”

“Technically I’m younger than you, kid,” Natter said, grinning as he pushed himself up from his seat, groaning as he did so as his knees protested. “And older too. We clones live an incredibly confusing life.”

Cal narrowed his eyes, standing up too when he realised the time. The meeting would be starting in less than ten minutes, and dread pooled in his stomach. Natter was quick to nudge him though, encouraging a response. Cal did so. “Last week you said it was a simple life.”

Natter just shrugged in response and started heading in the direction of the lift, trusting that Cal wouldn’t be that far behind him. As the doors opened, he eventually added, “it’s a contradicting one too.” Cal just rolled his eyes and walked into the lift. His nerves about the meeting were returning quickly now that they were in the elevator, but as Natter continued to live up to his name beside him, Cal figured he could probably get through it without falling apart if Natter and Commander Coal were going to be there too.

**-o-0-o-**

The council meeting had gone a lot smoother than Cal had expected it to go. He’d somehow managed to hold it together long enough to give a debrief on what had happened in the Bracca tunnels in a way that had at least felt smooth to him. It had been reasonably easy to talk about the events leading up to them entering the caves, and Commander Coal and Natter had been there to step in if he faltered or was unsure, or if there was something that needed to be added that he was unaware of. When it came to talking about how his Master had died, Cal was on his own, and he was short and sweet with his explanation. It hurt reviewing what had happened, more so now than it had when he had told Coal on _the Albedo Brave_.

Hopefully, he'd hid his emotions well and been everything a Jedi Padawan was supposed to be, because he could feel Master Yoda and Master Windu both analysing his every word and taking in all the details that he had offered them.

In the end he was glad Coal had insisted they talk about it beforehand, and he was relieved both him and Natter were with him. It may have hurt more, but he’d been in more control of his emotions this time around. Also, the two soldiers knew exactly when he’d finished his explanation because they’d heard it already, so were quick to pick up the slack with their view on the events.

Because of this, the few members of the Council who had been present, Master Yoda and Master Windu in person, and Master Unduli through a Comm call due to still being on Bracca after arriving as back up to relieve what was left of the 13th, had been given little time to analyse what Cal had said. The questions that would delve into the horrendous event further, were forgotten as the Commander kept the conversation focused firmly on him. It had given Cal a momentary reprieve.

But now the council meeting was finished, and Cal found he had a new challenge to deal with – moving into his new quarters as he was unable to face staying in his previous room.

There were new sets of quarters for Padawan’s that had lost their masters. They were located closer to the Initiate dorms and had a very similar layout, the main difference being that they were bigger. Where the Initiate quarters he had grown up in consisted of a small room with two bunks and was usually very cramped and untidy due to a group of four children living there, the room Cal was currently standing in was a lot larger, with one bed in each of the four corners. Each area clearly belonged to a different person and was kept in pristine condition, except for the corner that would apparently be his from now on, which was bare of any signs of life.

There was currently no sign of the other occupants, and Cal imagined all three spent as little time here as possible. This living space had been an immediate reminder of Bracca as soon as he’d stepped into the dorm. He’d only been here for a few minutes and already he wanted to leave. It was a feeling he couldn’t imagine would ever change, and the fact there was no one else in the room at this time in the morning only attested to that.

Cal walked over to the bed in the far corner, where there was a desk and dresser void of any belongings, and dropped down onto the edge of it. He didn’t like it here. This room was so similar to the rooms he had stayed in before he’d become a Padawan, when he had been waiting and training in the hopes that a Jedi Master would take him on as their apprentice. When he’d finally been chosen, he was never supposed to have to return to one of these dorms, not unless he was helping to care for the youngest members of the Order.

But it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. Even though Sarr’s master had said he could sleep on their sofa for as long as he needed, it felt wrong. He was welcomed there and both the Master and Padawan had done their best to make it feel like his home too, but that didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t. It had also looked so eerily familiar, with the same room layout and design to the quarters he had shared with his own Master. Staying their last night had made his stomach churn almost non-stop. He could just about ignore it when Sarr and his Master had been there with him during the day, but when they went to bed and he was suddenly left alone…

He had felt ill the entire night, and the one time he did fall asleep, he woke up again sometime later in the low-lit room, and the familiarity of it had him momentarily wondering why Master Tapal had allowed him to sleep on the sofa in the first place, before the reality came back to him with a sickening jolt. It was like a punch to the gut, stopping him in his tracks completely as he struggled to catch his breath, as if he had run a lap around the temple and not just woken up from sleep.

He hadn’t allowed himself to fall asleep again that night.

Whilst there no one stopping him from staying in his own quarters, he didn’t want to for the same reason. After the meeting that morning, Cal had returned there to collect some of his belongings. Natter and Coal had accompanied, but he had been in and out as fast as possible.

That left him with the Padawan dorm. The small section of the temple that had been cleared out after the Battle of Geonosis. He could see why the rooms had been set aside for others like him, he didn’t exactly want to spend all of his time back in the old apartments now that his Master wasn’t there with him, but he couldn’t see himself wanting to spend much time here either.

Cal looked down at the bed he was sat on, the simple design and bedding the same as all the standard issue beds found in the temple, and noticed a loose thread which he started to pick at immediately, anxious and on edge from being in such a suddenly knew environment and situation.

Until he’d walked into the room, he hadn’t even realised he felt worried about the future and what it would bring. He was usually pretty good at putting such thoughts to the back of his mind. Although he was also usually in a clearer head space.

Natter had mentioned meditating, although Cal was certain the clone had been unaware of how accurate his assessment of the Jedi had been, he couldn’t deny that the clone did have a point. His Master had always explained that it was an exercise in control, a tool he could use to clear his mind and find peace in stressful times. Now certainly felt like the time to use it, Cal thought, because he could certainly do with clearing his mind.

He settled himself on the bed, forcing himself to stop fiddling with the thread, his legs crossed as he sat up straight, resting his back on the head board for support. Eyes closed, he focused on his breathing, blocking out the rest of the world as he did his best to centre himself in the force.

It was an exercise that usually came so easily to him in the past, but trying to relax and clear his head now was like trying to stand still in the middle of a hurricane. He’d planned to lower his shields a fraction at a time, focus on each thought as it came to him and perhaps get a small measure of peace, that was how it usually worked. But as he slipped into the force, felt its warmth meld with his own signature, his grip on his shields seem to falter.

All of the emotions that he had previously been keeping at bay, ignoring on the journey back from Bracca and even distracting himself from focusing on after arriving on Coruscant, slammed into him at once, each one warring for his complete attention.

Guilt, because he should have been able to help. Anger at himself because he hadn’t helped, and at the Separatists for putting them in that position in the first place. Immense sadness and hopelessness, and fear over what would happen now that he was back home. His Master had always been the one to lead him, and now that guiding presence was gone, leaving him lost and confused and worried.

All of these feelings all at once was overwhelming and terrifying in its own right, and Cal could feel the onset of panic setting in as he thought about being in those caves, the realisation that he couldn’t do anything, the hopelessness when his Master fell and then didn’t get back up.

Blood leaking from the corners of the Lesat’s mouth as he tried to speak, dripping down his cheeks in a gruesome mirror of his own Padawan’s tears. _Trust in the force,_ yet the force wasn’t helping him right now.

Panic, as he felt the strength literally leave his Master’s body, the hands holding his own weakening their grasp before falling to the ground completely. An emptiness that he hadn’t experienced before when Master Tapal’s face followed suit, relaxing with open eyes that stared blankly up at him.

Cal pulled himself from the meditation, much like the hands that had pulled him away from his Master on Bracca, and he fought to calm his breath, scrubbing both hands over his face in an attempt to bring himself to the present. He was surprised when he pulled them away and tears glistened on his palms, and he stared at them momentarily before he felt his last reserves of strength shatter.

Falling back on the bed and turning to face the wall, heaving sobs that he couldn’t control passed his lips and the tears he had successfully been holding back until now fell freely down his face.

Trying to bring them under control was an exercise in futility. Now that the tears had started, he found it was impossible to stop them. The only bright side to the situation was that there was no one else in the room right now to witness it.

He didn’t know how long he lay there for, but the exhaustion that had been slowly creeping up on him since before Bracca hit him at once like a ship crashing into the surface of a planet and he realised just how tired he was. It was a bone deep weariness, both mental and physical, and now that he had lowered his shields just a fraction, his mind and body found it hard to block it all back out.

The onslaught of emotion, the endless tears and growing exhaustion were quick to send him into a deep sleep, and when he woke up several hours later, he found he only felt worse. There was a pounding headache right behind his eyes and he was just as tired as before, yet he found it hard to care about either of those things. He sat up, noticing that the two other people were in the room with him, both older and male, a Twi’lek and another Human, each in their own corners of the room and both happy to ignore everyone else.

Cal was fine with that, and as he stood, there was a twinge of pain in his neck from falling asleep in an awkward position, probably the reason for his headache as well. Fresh air would probably help with that, so he made a quick escape from the room, passing other Jedi as he walked through the halls but paying them no mind. He really didn’t want to talk to any of them, although he no longer felt like he’d break down at any moment. Apparently, he had washed all of those emotions away with his tears earlier on but that came with no comfort like he had expected it to. Feeling nothing about his Master’s death was just as bad as feeling everything.

**-o-0-o-**

Cal was grateful when his friend Ailyn returned from a mission with her Master three days later, and he was quick to organise a time for them all to meet up. He hadn’t seen some of them since before the war began. They had all been out completing missions with their masters at a faster rate than any of them had experienced before and as such, this was the first time they had all been home at the same time in five months.

Honestly, it couldn’t have come at a better time, because whilst he didn’t feel up to talking with anyone right now, it was a relief to be able to spend time with people he could just relax around, where he wasn’t expected to talk about his Master and the disaster that was Bracca. And right now, they all seemed quite happy to ignore the Star Destroyer in the room.

It actually felt rather strange which surprised Cal to no end. He had grown so accustomed to only talking to them individually over a comm from opposite ends of the galaxy, that sitting in the same room as them, all at the same time just felt abnormal. But at the same time they had all settled into a familiar routine immediately, as if they had never been separated for so long in the first place.

Cal was currently curled up on the small armchair in the living area, reading an article about minimising the waste energy output in a recently commissioned star fighter, but he was only half paying attention to the words on the screen. The article focused more on the politics surrounding the need for low cost transport, almost ignoring the science and mechanics behind how it would work. It was dull and poorly written, and if he wanted to read about politics he would have gone and spent the day at the Senate building.

So whilst it looked to the others like he was reading, he was in fact focused more on the brewing argument coming from the sofa across from him where his three friends had settled down for the afternoon. Sarr was sat on the floor in front of the sofa, using the coffee table as a foot rest whilst he stared intently at a games console in his hands. Dala sat behind him, leaning over the Nautolan’s shoulder to watch, occasionally muttering words of ‘wisdom’ for his friend to hear. It was clear for all to see though that his helpful remarks were only said to annoy his friend, not help. It only took a handful of minutes until the distraction clearly got the better of Sarr, who sighed dramatically in annoyance before throwing the game into the other boy’s lap with more force than was strictly necessary.

“That’s nothing like actually piloting a ship anyway,” he explained, dropping his head back on the sofa to stare at Dala. “Plus, I wouldn’t have you back seat flying,” he added, glaring at Dala who was fiercely ignoring the look as he took the console and started his own game.

“My advice was good,” the Mirialan shot back. “Not my fault you don’t have the piloting skills to utilise it.”

Cal gave up reading the article as soon as that comment was made, and he could see Ailyn sitting up straight across from him. There wasn’t much that broke through the calm exterior of Sarr’s personality. Questioning his ability to pilot a ship though, when he was the better at it out of all four of them, was a sure-fire way to do it though.

As was expected, the Nautolan’s eyes narrowed further as the glare he directed at Dala intensified. “The only reason you’re so good at this _game,”_ he started, snatching it from the other boy’s hand to continue the playthrough, “is because you have nothing better to do with your life than play it.”

Dala laughed at this, moving back to looking over his friends’ shoulder. “My hobbies are just interesting enough that I – that’s another ship, not a landing strip – actually enjoy spending time on them.”

“I know what it is,” Sarr bit out. “I’d have more luck following the advice of a blind man.”

“And a blind man would manage to make it past level one.”

Cal shared a glance with the blonde girl beside them and she just shrugged her shoulders in a ‘what can you do’ motion. After a moment’s hesitation she put her book down on the arm rest to better focus all her attention on the coming fireworks.

Cal felt himself smirk for a second before settling himself in to join her watching the show. Undoubtedly, the girl was getting ready to do damage control in case one of them took the jokes too far and the argument grew serious. After all, Ailyn was the mediator in the group and she had grown used to taking on that role over the years. She would stop the argument before it even had the chance of growing into a full fledge argument. Cal much preferred to remain quiet unless he needed to say something. The majority of the time his friends would stop the argument themselves anyway.

Surprisingly, the bickering came to a momentary halt a lot quicker than anyone expected, when Dala announced that he was hungry, and it took the two even less time to decide that they would go and make themselves lunch.

As the two boys made their way into the kitchen, the sounds of their argument going with them, Cal went back to his reading, intending to force his way through the article. He only made it another ten minutes before he caught Ailyn move seats so that she was directly opposite him. He glanced up and took note of the serious, set look to her eyes, and immediately felt a sense of foreboding. Ailyn had a naturally carefree aura about her, so when she put the effort in to look serious, Cal knew to be weary of what may happen next.

“Everything alright, Lyn?” he questioned, keeping his voice light despite his uncertainty.

Ailyn nodded, the action very direct before she gave him a small smile. It was almost as if she was reassuring him, and it was at that point he noticed the sorrow that seemed to fill up her blue eyes as she mulled over her words. “I wanted to talk to you whilst they’re gone.”

“Alright,” Cal said, dragging out the word. He sat up properly in the chair, yet somehow felt himself shrinking further into the cushions as he tried mentally preparing himself for what was likely not something he wanted to hear. His mind ran through several possible conversation topics, stubbornly ignoring the most obvious one, because he had come here to hang out with his friends, not talk about Bracca and everything that went with it.

If he wanted to talk about that, then all he had to do was find some Master in the hallways. They all felt the need to tell him how he should be feeling and what exercises he could do to help. All of it was lies, nothing was helping him. He didn’t want to talk about it and wished everyone could just leave him be to deal with it in his own time.

An unwanted part of his mind pointed out that he wasn’t doing that but he forced it from his thoughts. Perhaps if he didn’t have to spend all hours of the day avoiding people, he would have more time to deal with this on his own.

When none of his friends had mentioned Bracca since his arrival, only skirting around the topic and acknowledging what had happened, he thought they had understood that too. Now, looking at Ailyn, he realised that maybe they didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand. They still had their Master’s to talk to at the end of the day.

All he had was the busted end of a lightsaber, with a crystal that had been unable to do its only job.

He pushed the bitterness to a small corner of his mind; the same corner he had forced every other unwanted emotion he had experienced in the last few days.

This was why he didn’t want to talk about it. Whenever he did, it only made him angrier, and he already felt so many overpowering and unfamiliar emotions. He didn’t want any more building up on his plate. He was barely holding himself together with the ones he already felt.

But he didn’t voice those thoughts. Instead he just waited patiently for the inevitable conversation to start, yet when Ailyn spoke he still felt a sharp pain in his chest and a burning behind his eyes as thoughts he had been avoiding all day were forced to the forefront of his mind. “When I heard about what happened to Master Tapal, I wanted to comm you but my Master told me to give you time and wait until we arrived back at the temple,” Ailyn explained, fiddling with the book in her hands. “I’m so sorry.” She watched Cal, not bothering to hide her concern from her friend, something which Cal found oddly comforting. Alongside the comfort came a trickle of annoyance.

Ailyn had always been very outspoken, speaking what was on her mind and openly honest, perhaps even when it was better for her to remain silent. She was also fiercely protective of her friends. Those two traits combined meant she would always broach conversations with them head on if she had reason to be concerned.

It was therefore unsurprising that she was starting this conversation now. However, that knowledge did nothing to make Cal feel any better. He had really hoped they would all just leave him alone so he could read.

“It’s fine,” he said, picking up the article and trying to find the place he had previously stopped at. Hopefully his lack of interest in the conversation would make her go away. The article was boring and he had no desire to read another word of it, but Ailyn didn’t need to know that.

When he noticed his friend still watching him after several seconds, Cal went for a different tactic, confuse and delay. “It’s always best that we do as instructed,” he added, intentionally misunderstanding her words. He forced a smile onto his face for good measure.

The girl’s brow furrowed for a moment in confusion, and he could almost see her mentally going back over their conversation. He knew she wasn’t apologising for not having spoken to him sooner, but if he could keep the conversation away from Bracca and distract her long enough for the others to come back, he would be able to make a quick exit before anyone realised what had happened. A few carefully placed questions about the game Dala and Sarr had been playing and the two would be bickering again in seconds and Ailyn would be forced to step in to calm them down.

“I meant about…”

“It’s fine,” Cal interrupted, “really. We’re Padawans. We’re supposed to do what our elders suggest, even if we don’t agree with it.” He tried not to think about the glaring problem with that sentence. Without a master, he wasn’t really a Padawan.

Neither one spoke for a moment. Ailyn just stared at him, clearly understanding what he was doing and unsure what to say next. It was rare for Ailyn to be stuck for words and it just added to the silence of the room. Cal was able to clearly make out the conversation happening in the kitchen behind him. They were still discussing flying but Sarr appeared to be instructing Dala on the finer points of flight navigation, a topic Cal knew Dala had barely in their last exam.

Under normal circumstances, he would choose to listen to the conversation as he hadn’t exactly passed that test with flying colours himself, but right now he just wished the two would hurry up and get back in here. It didn’t take this long to throw a few pieces of food onto a plate.

“Have you spoken to anyone else about it,” Ailyn asked after the silence had dragged on, when she realised Cal wasn’t going to be the one to break it. He had absolutely no plans on helping her continue this conversation along. It wasn’t like he wanted to have it, nor had he been the one to start it. No, if Ailyn wanted to have this conversation, then she would have to lead it herself.

“I debriefed the council after returning,” Cal answered eventually. “And Commander Coal wanted to know what happened.”

Ailyn frowned at his words, thinking them over but in obvious disagreement. “Meetings and debriefs aren’t the same. I meant have you actually…”

“I know what you meant, Lyn.”

The girl froze for a moment at the interruption, hesitating for a second before deciding to continue on. Cal saw the resolve on her face, and resisted the overwhelming desire to roll his eyes.

“Master Salm always tells me to talk about anything on my mind.”

Cal wanted to bite back that that was good for her, but his Master had never said such a thing, however, at that moment Dala and Sarr returned from the kitchen, both holding two plates of food in their hand and apparently finished with their own conversation.

“My master always tells me to meditate or find someone to meditate with,” Dala explained whilst holding a plate out for Cal to take, acting as if he had been a part of the conversation the entire time. Cal snatched the food away, scowling as he did, but Dala either took no notice of it or missed the glare entirely. Instead, the Mirialan makes a flicking gesture with his free hand, signalling Cal to move over and before he dropped into the space left for him. “It’s kriffing annoying,” the teen added grumpily as he slouched down into the sofa.

Cal could agree with him on that one, but none of his friends seemed to notice his growing irritation. He took a bite of his sandwich, the site of the food making him realise just how hungry he was. He had skipped breakfast this morning after a restless night, but apparently his hunger had returned in the hours since then.

“I mean we’re taught it for a reason, right? It’s meant to help us.” Cal wasn’t even sure who it was that had said that. He wasn’t paying attention so it sounded as if the conversation was one he was only over hearing from a distance where he could make out the words but not distinguish who had said it. He didn’t hear most of the conversation in fact, and was only torn away from eating his lunch when he heard his name, at which point he looked up to find all three of his friends staring at him, a mixture of concern showing on each of their faces despite their efforts to hide it.

“Are you alright?” Dala suddenly asked, and his words seemed particularly loud now, though Cal had no idea why. He also figured from the way the boy said it, with more emphasis on the question than what would be normal, that it was a question that had been repeated several times already.

Cal just stared blankly at his friend, because what sort of question was that? What answer did they expect? He couldn’t lie. He wanted to, he really wanted to, because then they wouldn’t have a reason to continue the conversation, but he realised that attempting to do such a thing was next to impossible, the words just seemed to get stuck behind a lump in his throat, and an ache in his chest made it hard to say anything at all.

He was saved from having to answer himself when Dala started to stumble through his next sentence. “I mean…” the Mirialan was momentarily speechless, an accomplishment on any other day, and he rubbed at the tattooed markings on the backs of his hands as he tried to sort himself out. “You just look tired, Cal. Perhaps you should lie down for a bit.”

Those words seemed to dislodge the obstruction that prevented him from speaking and with it the discomfort left too as his brain tried to comprehend what had been said to him.

“I don’t need to sleep,” Cal muttered staring at the ground lost in thought before he turned to the others. “And if meditation helps you so much, then why don’t you go meditate instead of bothering me,” he added, the words steadily growing louder as he reached forward to grab a hold of his data pad in one hand tightly. “I’m sick of people telling me what I should do. How do any of you know how I feel or what I should do about it?”

“Cal, that’s not what we’re trying to do,” Sarr said, reaching out towards Cal, but the masterless Padawan just moved out of the way, pushing himself to his feet suddenly.

“We just want you to know that you can talk to us,” Dala adds. A distant part in Cal’s mind understood that his friends were only trying to help him but he forcefully pushed it from his thoughts. He was finished with people trying to help. There was no way they could help him, not unless they could bring his Master back and it was so painfully, hopelessly obvious that no one could do that for him.

“And what if I don’t want to talk about it,” he shot back, shrugging off his friends’ support as he took a step backwards, all the while glaring at his friends. He was very much aware that he wasn’t really angry at them, but it turned out that letting go of his emotions in this instance was a lot easier to do than taking back control of them. “I don’t understand why you can’t just leave me alone. If I wanted to talk about it, I would have. Just stop pushing me to talk about something I can’t even think about!”

The sudden outburst had the desired effect. No one in the room tried to offer help. But then, no one in the room had any words to say, so unexpected was the outburst.

And whilst his friends were all speechless from shock (he wasn’t one to shout at his friends without provocation), Cal on the other hand, was speechless from a gut-wrenching guilt that had suddenly twisted up inside his stomach. He no longer felt angry though, which would have been a relief, if he didn’t feel so bad for releasing that anger on the few people in his life that he cared for.

Just as he was about to apologise, he heard the door behind him open, and he didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Master Salm, Ailyn’s Master, that had stepped into the room.

It was like a bucket of frozen water had been dropped over him when he looked at the Jedi, saw the realisation dawn on her face as it then transformed into concern and then one of pity. When she looked over his shoulder to her Padawan, he could tell the two were having some sort of silent conversation. The burning desire to apologise to his friends was swept under the carpet in an instance, and the colour which had drained from his face at the Jedi Master’s entrance returned full force as he gained a steely look to his eyes.

As it turned out, now that he had released some of his emotion, the rest of it was quickly wanting to spill over too. The fifteen-year-old didn’t know whether he wanted to shout at his friends until his throat hurt and his lungs burned, or drop to the floor and release the tears that had been building up there since he had broken down three days ago, because he would never be able to talk to his Master again, let alone be able to share the ability to talk over his training bond with him.

And his training bond was still there, but only a part of it. It ended abruptly, the ends withered and floating aimlessly, acting as if there was still another end of the bond that they could reconnect to. It, like everything else in the temple, only acted to taunt him with the past, and even just focusing on it for a moment caused the start of headache right behind his eyes.

Cal stared ahead, frozen in place as he tried to figure out what to do. Screaming and crying seemed like the only two options he had at his disposal, stuck as he was between his friends and the Jedi Master. But both would have disastrous outcomes. Jedi weren’t meant to get angry, so he couldn’t be seen to be shouting at a Jedi Master, but they also weren’t supposed to have attachments, therefore he couldn’t let anyone know he was unable to move past Bracca.

Then he realised a third option. The door behind Master Salm, left wide open and forgotten after the Jedi had entered the room full of uncertain children. As soon as his brain made the connection between the open door and the chance to escape, Cal moved on instinct, dodging around the older woman who had made to take a step towards him, leaving the room and its occupants behind without a backwards glance.

At first, he ran, but when he turned the corner and saw other Jedi in the halls, he slowed to walk, taking random turns down hallways so that his friends couldn’t follow him. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, just so long as it was far away from anyone else looking to talk to him, and when he thought he’d been walking for long enough, he came to a gradual halt in a corridor with no other foot traffic.

When he reached out to lean against the wall, Cal noticed his hand shaking and pulled it back to his side immediately. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm his racing heart, and when he opened them again, he realised he was standing at the entrance to the temple archives.

It wasn’t the place he would usually choose to spend his time; he wasn’t exactly one for studying when he didn’t need to, but that just meant it was unlikely that anyone would think to look for him here. With that in mind, Cal was quick to make his way into the large room, crossing the entrance and settling himself down at one of the many desks that filled the space.

He would need to talk to his friends and apologise at some point, but for now he would just stay here and try and gather what little composure he could. No one would disturb him here, so he could take as long as he needed. With that in mind, Cal turned the screen in front of him on. He had some work to catch up on anyway. He would finish that and then talk to his friends later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things I want to clarify about this chapter as I don’t feel like it comes across brilliant above. Cal is kind of all over the place with his thoughts and feelings. Other people have offered him condolences/advice between scenes, but Cal is choosing not to accept it. In the same respect, he knows people are just trying to help him, but is refusing to accept that too. I feel like his friend’s also kind of come across as a bit inconsiderate at times, however the way I see it is that they’re still only kids, none of which have suffered a serious loss in their life up until this point and none of them really know how to react to it or help Cal. They’re trying, but are just saying the wrong things to him at this moment in time.
> 
> Sorry if this chapter was a little heavy with the original characters, but as it has been split in two with the next, all of the original characters Cal talks to seem to have fallen into this chapter. It is necessary for the story though and it felt right to have him talk to those he knew and not just force characters we already know into the story.
> 
> The next chapter though is the one I feel people have been reading this fic for and so far it’s going a lot better than this one did. Hopefully it stays that way and I can get an update out quicker than this one took.


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